


Decisions

by VictoriaBlaze



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaBlaze/pseuds/VictoriaBlaze
Summary: Days before this, Crowley had a run-in with Hastur, who left him in a pretty rotten way. Nearly caught in the crossfire of said incident, Victoria critically examines the direction her life is going, and whether the journey forward is worth the rise.This is Victoria's third story, which took place a few months after meeting her Ineffable friends.Content Warning: Near death experiences, anxiety, discussions about mortality
Kudos: 1





	Decisions

_“If you’d arrived while Hastur was still there, you’d be dead, Victoria.”_

_That white slash of text had ripped her world apart. She could have been killed. No games, no jests. No fun-playtime with soft, fluffy clouds and sunshine. Death. Very real, very cruel death.  
She was warned that her association with entities greater than her was no game. That there could be very serious consequences to her actions. If Crowley and Aziraphale suffered so cruelly for loving one another at the hands of beings who had known them from the Beginning, how stupid was she, a human, for thinking she could skate by without repercussion for the same? _

_Mortals died. The ephemeral lovers were eternal. Death was the only result from any friendship with them, no matter what._

“...no matter what...?” Victoria mumbled to herself as cogs turned and clicked into place in her muddled mind. Lifting her head, she looked around her empty apartment as if the answer was spread out across the floor of her sitting room this entire time. Her tear-reddened gaze hardened like jasper. It was so obvious, how had she not realized it before? Getting up from her sad position on the floor, she snatched her mobile off the threadbare sofa and dialed. The line rang nearly a dozen times before it finally connected through to a very curt voice. 

“I’m terribly sorry, but we are closed for today-” 

“Aziraphale.”

His diatribe choked off, torn in two by a lurching hesitation. “...Victoria?” 

“I’m coming over.” 

“Now? Is...? All right.” Afraid of what may come if she made it a discussion, she hung up and crammed her phone into her pocket along with her keys and a crushed pack of cigarettes. Throwing a small ‘goodbye’ over her shoulder to her cat, she sailed out of the loft complex and strode determinedly in the direction of the bookshop. 

The world seemed a seizing, hot blur as Victoria nearly ran down the city streets. Though she could barely see through the haze of reckless adrenaline clouding her vision, her feet knew the way, and all she could trust now was her instinct. Her heart pounded against her chest like the ocean surf in a maelstrom as she reached for the ornate brass door handle of A.Z. Fell and Co. The lock unlatched itself the moment her fingertips brushed the metal, and that terrible slotting sound plummeted into the bottom of her roiling stomach. They were waiting for her. Both of   
them. She thought it fitting that this would be the first time the three of them would be in a room together, as chances were it would also be the last. Taking a deep, steadying breath and shaking out her shoulders, she stepped into the dimly-lit repository, shutting and locking the door behind her.

The store was even more beautiful than she remembered, with curtains half-drawn and antique lamps suffusing a cozy glow across lovingly cultivated hillocks of books. The whole of it washed over her with a deep, certain feeling of love before a drizzle of trepidation rinsed it away. Her throat caught as she seized, transfixed, before the pair. Crowley and Aziraphale stood waiting in the centre of the shop, perfectly illuminated by a gap in the curtain. To Victoria, though it looked much like a scene in a fairytale, it felt too near to goodbye for her to take any joy from the moment. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she approached them. 

There was something about them both together that changed them as individuals somehow. She couldn’t quite say what it was, but they became richer. More vibrant. Illustrious. It wasn’t in her nature to think on things like auras or chakras, but if she had to say, it would be their souls entwining just by their nearness to each other. It was a silly thought, she reasoned, that she didn’t really believe in 'psychic nonsense,' given that until recently, she didn’t believe in angels and demons either. Now here she was, facing one of each with a very important decision to make. 

“Well... this is unexpected,” Aziraphale cautiously smiled. There was a slight tinge of uncertainty coming from him, and it made Victoria feel as though she’d done something wrong. She coughed to clear the anxiety from her throat. 

“I've done a lot of thinking, and... well... I'm going to die someday.” She felt oddly empowered saying it aloud, fully occupying that truth. It surprised her with just how freeing it was, and she gave a small nod as she looked them both in the eyes, determined. 

The pair paused and glanced at one another, slightly confused. Leaning over to the angel, Crowley muttered under his breath, “You don’t think she's only just learned?” Aziraphale gave him a tender, but withering look. 

“Yes, we understand the longevity of mortals quite intimately,” he assured her. 

“I-I know you both do, but I didn't. Not really. I knew the facts of it, but I didn't know it in my soul. I'd never felt it before, that feeling of possibly not existing. It frightened me.” 

“Well it should,” Crowley grumbled. “I all but had the scales knocked off me by Hastur; you would have been dead in an instant. Think that about sums it up. Don't expect we'll be seeing much more of you, will we?”

“No th-that's-”

“Do try to be a touch more delicate, dear boy,” Aziraphale sighed. “This is something of a fragile moment.” 

“Exactly my point,” Crowley snapped. “Look at her! She can't even talk to the pair of us without shaking. You think she'd last a second if the Duke of Hell came up and sneezed on her? Let's be honest, this has been amusing but it's time to stop.”

“I'm not disputing the facts of the matter, I only wish you would be a bit softer with her. We want her to remember us fondly, don't we? If this is goodbye-” 

“No!” Victoria suddenly shouted. Dumbfounded, the couple turned their attentions away from each other and gave them fully to the woman. Her entire frame trembled with overwhelming emotion, and she could barely keep her teeth from chattering as she spoke: “This isn’t goodbye. That's not why I'm here.” 

“All right, say it then,” the demon demanded. 

The intensity from him froze her in her tracks, clamping her jaw shut and gripping her chest. After a second of recovery and a long, steady breath, she regathered her thoughts. “As I said... I’m going to die someday. I've never been close to it like this. And... it made me think: If I'm around you both, then death is an eventuality.” Her throat caught, threatening to hold her voice fast, yet she stubbornly pushed through: “But see, being mortal... it's an eventuality anyway. What's the point then if the result’s the same? I should be allowed to be around people I care about if the consequence is just as if I wasn't.” 

Aziraphale blustered, taking a small step forward. “Victoria, you could have a very long and happy life! You don't want it cut short by circumstances surrounding us. We are still in the midst of very real struggles with paramount beings of near-limitless power and resources. What sense is there in becoming an early and unnecessary casualty?” 

“That's just it, though! Maybe my life will be long - I don't really know, do I? But I do know for certain that if I choose to never see either of you again, my life won’t be happy. You have both made me so big for having known you that I... I can't ever go back to being small again. Please.” 

A heavy silence fell like sudden snow on the bookshop, burying everything in its thick weight. Crowley removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a growl, turning away from the conversation. It seemed to Victoria that she was only frustrating them, but something in her heart began to bloom. Everything felt different now that she'd said it aloud, like entering a room where moments before music was playing and now everything was still with its absence. 

Aziraphale took a long, tempered breath, and then he smiled resolutely. “Well. I suppose there's nothing more to say on the matter.” 

“No, no.” Crowley wheeled around, nearly crushing his glasses in his hand as he thrust a finger into his companion’s chest. “There's a hell of a lot that can be said on the matter!” His words froze mid-utterance as he looked deeply into the angel’s eyes. Aziraphale grinned sweetly, giving him the tiniest shrug. Throwing his amber gaze over to the timorous human, Crowley quickly glanced between her and the principality, realizing he'd lost the argument before it began. Aziraphale beamed. 

“What was it you were saying, my dear?” 

A feral sound came from him, and then Crowley’s brazenness wilted. Sighing, he slipped his glasses back on and swaggered up to the mortal. Folding his arms aggressively over his chest, he tried his level-best to hide a grin under a grimace as he addressed her with nearly-convincing antipathy. 

“Tempt you to some lunch, human?”


End file.
